


home improvement

by bropunzeling



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bropunzeling/pseuds/bropunzeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sid’s standing in the hotel hallway, already in sweats and a t-shirt. “Hi G,” he says, already pushing past Geno to walk into his hotel room. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought we could watch TV or something.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	home improvement

**Author's Note:**

> i talked about sid and geno cuddling in hotel rooms on twitter and then i wrote it. set in the nebulous future of next season. thank you to merrin for the beta; you're fantastic as per usual.

Just after an exhausting road game, Geno pushes open his hotel door and barely takes the time to toe off his shoes before collapsing onto his bed. With a sigh, he smashes his face into the pillow. It can’t possibly be that important to take off his suit.

He’s just drifted into a comfortable doze when there’s a knock at the door. Geno waits, wondering if whoever’s there will leave, but they just knock again, soft but insistent.

Geno sighs, and with a grunt, pushes himself off the bed to go open the door.

Sid’s standing in the hotel hallway, already in sweats and a t-shirt. “Hi G,” he says, already pushing past Geno to walk into his hotel room. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought we could watch TV or something.”

“Okay, Sid,” Geno replies, feeling bemused even as Sid makes himself comfortable on half of the double, bare toes peeking out just past the hem of his sweatpants. “Wait until I change?”

“Sure,” Sid replies, already turning on the TV and flipping through channels.

It’s a little weird to strip in front of Sid outside of the clinical feeling of the locker room, but when Geno peeks over his shoulder as he pulls off his suit jacket, he can see Sid staring at the screen pensively, the light flickering on his face. Knowing that Sid isn’t really paying him any attention helps, and he changes down to his own t-shirt and sweats, even though he’ll have to strip out of them when he actually goes to bed later.

“Scoot over,” he says, once he’s finished changing. “Your ass so big, I not have room.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sid replies, but it’s lazy instead of irritated, and he does scoot over. They still end up all pressed together, Sid’s toes tapping Geno’s calf, but Sid doesn’t say anything about the physical contact so Geno won’t either. 

“You okay with HGTV?” Sid asks, even as he flips straight to it. It’s one of the thoughtless ways in which Sid can be just a little too sure of himself, but Geno doesn’t mind – he doesn’t particularly care what they watch, and it isn’t worth saying anything anyways.

“Sure,” Geno says, and Sid hums, satisfied.

They’ve tuned in halfway through the program, some show about a contractor called _Holmes on Homes_. Geno doesn’t really watch this kind of stuff, but Sid apparently does, because for the first few minutes he chats about it, commenting on the project he’s doing in comparison to some other episode.

“That one with the mold in the basement – that was a real disaster,” Sid says halfway through a commercial on vacuum cleaners, yawning a little into his palm.

“Uh-huh,” Geno says, even as Sid lists a little to the side, dropping his head on Geno’s shoulder.

“Super – awful,” Sid yawns, shoulder pressing into Geno’s arm in a way that’s not quite uncomfortable, but will be soon.

Geno waits, but Sid doesn’t move away, instead spending the next segment leaning on Geno. He doesn’t comment this time, instead breathing slow and even, and by the next commercial break, Geno looks down to find Sid asleep.

He should probably should wake Sid up, make him go back to his own hotel room and sleep there.

Instead, he shifts his arm so it’s wrapped around Sid’s shoulders, rubbing a thumb absently just under the end of his sleeve, and watches Holmes repair the basement and save the day.

When he wakes up in the morning, Sid’s already gone.

-

After the next road game, a close loss that still has Geno wound-up tight with missed shots and unlucky bounces, he makes it back to the hotel only to have Sid following him back into his room.

“HGTV still okay?” Sid asks, holding the remote.

Geno blinks at him, but Sid’s got the stubborn look in his eyes he gets about five o’clock PB&Js and two-touch, the one that says he knows exactly the way the world should work. Apparently watching reality shows with Geno after road games has become another part of that, and Geno may be tired and angry, but he’s not going to fuck with Sid and his routines.

“That fine,” he says, and carefully unknots his tie.

This time they watch some show called _House Hunters_ , Sid scooting close and not even questioning the arm Geno slings around his shoulders. When he does drop off, it’s after this family has looked at two ugly houses, and Geno only knows Sid’s asleep because his disparaging comments have died away.

Well, that and the tiny patch of drool that Geno can feel seeping through the shoulder of his shirt.

Geno could probably reach for the remote and change the channel now, but a small part of him really does want to know which house the couple chooses, and plus, he doesn’t really want to wake Sid up.

Geno still wakes up to no one next to him, and tries not to feel weirdly empty about it.

-

Next they have a three game home stand, which among other things means Geno gets to choose his own TV shows and walk around in his room in just his boxers. It’s possibly a little stupid how freeing it feels, but whatever. If he lays around his living room and watches the episodes of _Lyubov Kak Lyubov_ his mama tapes for him, no one has to know.

Their first game home they win against Nashville, a solid victory that gets the bad taste of the last loss out of their mouths. Everyone’s smiling but especially Sid, who pulls Kuni in for a one-armed hug as soon as they reach the locker room, shouting congratulations for his snipe of a goal.

Once they make it to the bar, Geno spends the first hour of the evening getting solidly tipsy, doing a couple of shots before grabbing a pint and heading back to one of the booths where the rest of the team is sitting. Sid’s holding court on one end, telling a disinterested Jussi and a blank-faced Paulie about something.

“—it’s really cool, actually,” Geno hears as he slides in next to Sid, taking a sip of beer. “They do this thing with, like, painter’s tape and –“

“You talking about house show?” Geno asks, taking a sip of beer as Jussi jumps, startled out of his stupor, and Paulie grins. “They not care, Sid, they already have house.”

“Yeah, but this is about _improvement_ ,” Sid replies, turning to look at him wide-eyed. It’s a really good look for him, and Geno has to dig his fingernails into his palm to not blurt out anything stupid.

“Maybe they not want improvement,” Geno counters, taking another sip of beer and ignoring the way Paulie’s not so silently laughing at them. “Maybe they okay with what they got.”

“There’s always room to improve, Geno,” Sid says, overly sincere in a way that means he’s probably a few drinks past tipsy.

“Sure,” Geno says, mock sighing and taking the elbow Sid lands in his stomach with an over-exaggerated groan. “So mean! Worst captain.”

“You mean best,” Sid replies.

This time, Geno joins Paulie in his laughter. “You sound like Seryozha’s daughters. Childish.”

“ _You’re_ childish,” Sid replies, slumping over a little and resting his head on Geno’s shoulder.

“Okay, I need more to drink,” Paulie says, giving a nod to Jussi and a mock salute to Geno. “Make sure the captain there doesn’t pass out in the booth while I’m gone, okay?”

“What you guys even give him?” Geno asks Jussi, who just shrugs.

“Blame them,” he says, nodding over towards the group of French-Canadians and Kuni. “They get him started, then drop off here.”

“Great,” Geno groans, because now Sid’s leaning even farther, enough so that Geno can feel Sid’s hair tickling the skin of his neck. All of that definitely warrants finishing his beer, and he does it in one long gulp, ignoring the way Sid shifts so he’s pressed even closer.

Fortunately, just then Paulie returns with three more beers, passing them around like the good Minnesota boy he is. “Figured we needed another round if we’re going to get close to Sid’s example,” he says with a shrug.

Geno accepts his beer gratefully, even as Sid shifts, one hand resting on Geno’s thigh and fingers tapping unknowable rhythms. “Maybe go home soon,” he says, huffing out a breath just to see if Sid will react. “Can’t be too drunk, otherwise can’t carry his huge ass home.”

“Hey,” Sid mumbles, though when Geno peeks down to check, he doesn’t open his eyes.

“It is pretty big,” Paulie says mildly, because he’s not so secretly an asshole. Geno appreciates that in a guy.

“You guys suck,” Sid mutters, and Geno laughs and takes another long pull of beer.

“Time to go,” he says, once he finishes, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand and poking Sid in the shoulder. Sid groans, but finally he sits up, hair sticking up stupidly and eyes slightly glassy.

Geno very carefully doesn’t think about how cute he is.

After a fairly short wait for a taxi, Geno finally manages to get Sid home, pushing him up the stairs and taking the keys from him when he fumbles with the lock. “Water, bed,” he orders, giving Sid small shoves to the back and herding him into the kitchen.

“Yes, _Mom_ ,” Sid retorts, but he dutifully chugs two glasses of water when Geno glares at him.

Geno takes the opportunity to look around Sid’s kitchen. He hasn’t been to Sid’s house that often – Sid sometimes hosts team things, or the occasional smaller get-together, but Sid doesn’t have people over that often and Geno’s never really had a good chance to look around besides the tour Sid gave when he first moved in. Still, his kitchen looks nice, if a little bit like a store display, all matched white dishes and wood cabinets, granite countertops gleaming in the slightly yellow light.

“You okay?” Geno hears, and he jumps a little.

“Yes, yes, am fine,” he says finally, glancing back at Sid. “Should get back to taxi, head home.”

“Oh,” Sid says, and for a second he sounds almost disappointed, but – it’s probably nothing. “Well, have a good night, G.”

“Good night, Sid,” Geno replies, and he heads out the door, leaving Sid alone in his gleaming kitchen.

-

They’re back on the road soon enough, a couple of games up in Canada before heading home again. Practice is pretty good, and Geno heads into the hotel ready for an afternoon nap before team dinner.

It probably shouldn’t surprise him that Sid meets him outside his door, but he’d wondered if Sid would come back after that road trip, or if it had been just the one trip, just those few times. 

He shouldn’t have wondered at all, though, because Sid just waits for him to unlock the door with his key card before following him in, kicking off the abominations that are his Crocs before settling on what Geno is starting to think of as his side of the bed. “They have some good stuff on in the afternoons,” he says, grabbing the remote off of Geno’s bedside table and turning on the TV.

“Okay,” Geno agrees, toeing off his own shoes and, after a second of thought, piling the pillows strategically so they’ll support his back better. “What kind of show?”

“Decorating, painting, that sort of stuff,” Sid tells him, settling into the arm Geno throws around him like it’s his due. He also taps Geno with his toes, tucking them under the hem of Geno’s sweatpants.

They’re a little cold, but Geno can’t complain at all.

Sid stays awake a little longer this time, commenting on one designer’s color choices – “Who uses _mustard_ for a wall? That’s just weird.” – and mumbling things about furniture, but he still leans on Geno’s chest, turning his face enough that he can talk right into Geno’s ear. It’s incredibly distracting, and it’s almost a relief when he finally drifts off, because at least Geno doesn’t have to think about Sid’s voice in his ear, Sid’s breath hot on his neck.

He’s still wide awake, however, and so instead of doing the smart thing, like turning off the TV, he pulls out his phone and starts dicking around on the internet. It isn’t totally coincidence that he starts looking at kitchen set-ups, but, well. Sid’s kitchen was awfully boring, and he knows his isn’t that great either.

If he saves a couple pictures into a new folder on his phone before he finally drifts off into his nap, well, no one has to know.

-

If anything, Sid’s visits to Geno’s room become even more frequent over the course of the trip. Even after a win in Toronto where the whole team goes out after, Sid follows Geno back up to his room, slightly tipsy and leaning a little heavily on Geno in the elevator.

“That’s a fucking awful house,” he says as he slowly, clumsily unbuttons his shirt and Geno itches to help him. “Why would anyone live there?”

Geno glances at the screen to see what is truly an appallingly mint green house, complete with brown shag carpeting. “Very ugly, yes,” he agrees, considering pulling on sweatpants and finally deciding against it. Sid’s seen him naked thousands of times – he can deal with some boxers.

“Seriously,” Sid continues, fumbling with the button of his pants as Geno looks away, “it’s just – _bad_.”

“You live in pink house,” Geno replies, because that won’t ever stop being funny.

Sid, predictably, bristles at him. “It’s _coral_ ,” he replies, pursing his lips in a single straight line that Geno badly wants to kiss off his face. “It has old-fashioned charm.”

“ _Pink_ ,” Geno repeats, turning over the covers and getting underneath the blankets.

As soon as he does, Sid freezes, looking from the covers to the door and back again, which, of course Sid’s weird sense of Canadian manners kicks in only when he can’t sleep on top of Geno’s comforter.

“Sid,” Geno says finally, rolling his eyes a little, because clearly Sid wants to stay. Otherwise he wouldn’t have followed Geno back here. “You already drool on me lots. Can sleep under covers.”

“I’m not going to fall asleep,” Sid protests, but it’s a sad, half-hearted one, and he crawls under on his side of the bed anyways, shoving the pillows around carefully until they suit whatever strange Sidney standards he has.

Of course, all of his careful arrangements apparently don’t matter two minutes in, because before Geno even knows it Sid’s using his chest as a pillow, grumpily admonishing the people on _House Hunters: International_ about their life choices. “Why would you want to live there? You’d hit your head on every doorway,” he says, his ear pressed up against Geno’s collarbone.

“Well, they shorter than even you, maybe want short house,” Geno replies, skimming through his new pinboard of dining room set-ups on his phone with one hand and ever so carefully brushing the short hairs on the nape of Sid’s neck with his thumb.

He can’t help laughing when Sid scowls up at him, pouty even at this angle. “I’m not that short,” he says with a huff, “and even if I was, I still wouldn’t want a house for – for hobbits, or anything – stop laughing, G!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Geno apologizes, but he doesn’t really mean it, and he starts laughing again.

“You’re an asshole,” Sid replies, scowl even deeper, but soon enough he turns back to the screen and bitching at random couples searching for houses in Spain instead of Geno.

Geno doesn’t know when they fall asleep – somewhere between the Spain couple and the France one – but he wakes up at some godforsaken hour in the morning when his blanket shifts off his chest. He reaches out to pull it back, and, oh, that’s not a blanket.

“Sorry,” Sid whispers, and Geno can’t think of words this early in the morning, just pulls on Sid’s arm, tugging him down.

“Geno,” Sid says softly, “Geno, I have to get back to my room,” and Geno shakes his head, feeling bleary but not wanting Sid to go.

“Is fine,” he gets out, tugging Sid’s arm again, “stay,” and, when Sid looks indecisive, “stay.”

For a long second, Sid doesn’t even move. Then, though, he settles back under the covers, back to where he was resting on Geno’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbles into Geno’s shirt.

Geno hums back, and between one breath and the next, falls back asleep.

-

The thing is, Geno knows they should talk about it. Most good friends don’t fall asleep in each other’s hotel rooms, or get used to the way their friend falls asleep on their shoulder, the feeling of soft, fine hair under their hands.

After the fourth or fifth road trip, though, Geno doesn’t want to talk about it. He likes the new closeness he and Sid have, likes how comfortable it is, how easy. Talking about it, about why now, of all times, Sid has decided to pull Geno into his orbit, would throw things off in a way Geno doesn’t want to have happen.

So he doesn’t ask Sid about it, and he doesn’t say anything to any of the team, and he keeps letting Sid into his hotel room.

Still, he doesn’t kid himself that the team hasn’t noticed. Paulie and Duper in particular keep throwing glances at him, and while Paulie probably won’t say anything, Geno doubts that Duper will just let things lie.

Thus, it isn’t particularly surprising when after a good win against the Rangers, Duper pulls him aside at the bar and stares him down in a way that all rights shouldn’t be intimidating, but is a bit anyways.

“So,” Duper says, leaning in a little and glaring up at Geno, “what exactly are you doing with Sidney?”

Geno looks around to find Tanger and Kuni quietly but obviously keeping watch, and sighs as all hopes of getting out of this disappear.

“We watch TV,” he says finally, shrugging a little. “Home improvement, design. That stuff.” He thinks of the phone in his pocket, full of screenshots and a carefully anonymous Pinterest account focused on wall decorations and living rooms.

“And that’s all you do?” Duper asks, in a tone of voice he’s probably perfecting for whenever Maeva starts dating people.

“Yes,” Geno says, suddenly exhausted. “That all we do. No need for – for threat, or anything.”

Duper hums, but he doesn’t let Geno leave, just crosses his arms and considers him carefully. 

Finally, he says, “I don’t think I need to tell you how to treat Sid. You’re both adults. But –“ and he throws out a hand to stop Geno from leaving, pushing Geno back even as he eyes Geno in a terribly parental way, “I also don’t think I need to tell you that Sid can be – well. He gets ideas about how to go about things that might not always be what you’d expect.”

“Yes, and?” Geno asks, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers on his elbow.

“Well,” Duper says, reaching out to pat Geno on the shoulder, “maybe you should think about what Sid might be trying to do here. Just a thought.”

With that, he turns and goes back towards the team table, Tanger and Kuni following him over. Geno stares after them, blinking a little and leaning against the bar as he wonders what, exactly, Duper was trying to tell him.

When he glances over at the team booth, he catches Sid’s eye, and Sid smiles at him. It’s warm and crooked, a little blurry after the couple of beers Geno’s had, and it isn’t exactly new that Geno wants to see it again, but now he’s thinking about if Sid smiles more easily for him now than he has before.

Oh, he thinks, smiling back at Sid just to watch Sid’s grin get bigger, watch it split his face and make his nose wrinkle and his cheeks pink up. Oh.

-

He waits until after practice in New Jersey, planning his strategy while pulling off his practice jersey and standing under the spray of the locker room showers. Still, he can’t hold in all of his nervousness, tapping his fingers in the elevator that Sid joins him in, glancing from the floor numbers to the buttons to his own shoes.

Sid leads the way to Geno’s hotel room, waiting by the door as Geno fumbles with his key card, taking a couple of tries to unlock the door and let them both in. As they go in, Sid leaves his things right by one of the chairs they always have in hotel rooms, draping his coat and taking off his shoes before heading over to his side of the bed.

“Sid,” Geno says, before Sid can sit down, and Sid pauses, looking up at Geno. The bed is between them, and Geno can’t stop fiddling with his phone in his pocket, trying not to shift on his feet. 

“Geno?” Sid asks, when Geno doesn’t say anything else, and Geno can feel his mouth go dry. 

“Sid,” he repeats, and Sid’s staring at him, all of that focus right on Geno’s face. When he licks his lips, he can see Sid’s eyes tracking it, flicking down and back again. “Sid, I – why we do this?”

“What?” Sid asks, and Geno gestures towards the TV, blank screen reflecting both of them.

“Why we nap, watch show? You can do that in own room. Don’t have to come here.”

“I,” Sid says, frowning slightly, “I like to spend time with you.”

“Yes,” Geno says, huffing out a breath, “but not need – we sleep in same bed, Sid. We cuddle. Can spend time and not – not do that.”

Sid’s frown deepens. “Are you saying you don’t want to?”

“No! Not say that, just – want to know why,” Geno says, throwing his hands up uselessly and letting them drop back down to his sides.

“I, um,” Sid says, and he looks around, glancing at the TV and back to Geno’s face. “I wanted to hang out with you, because, um.” He pauses, and Geno waits, anticipation flaring up in the pit of his stomach. “Because I like you, a lot. So. I thought this would be a good way to, you know, hang out with you, and you didn’t say no, and –“

“Wait,” Geno interrupts, Sid freezing and staring at him, wide-eyed. “You like me?”

“Um,” Sid says, biting down on his lip. “Yes?”

“Yes?” Geno parrots, walking around his side of the bed to come closer to Sid, who’s still chewing on his bottom lip in a way that makes Geno want to soothe it, and then bite it again.

“Yes,” Sid repeats, staring up as Geno draws nearer, his hands clenched in fists. “I like you.”

Geno can’t help beaming at that, reaching down to stroke his thumb right in the spot under Sid’s ear. “Good,” he says, taking one more step so that he’s close enough to feel Sid’s body heat, close enough that he can hear the breaths Sid takes. “I like you too.”

“You do?” Sid says, sounding surprised and pleased all at once, and Geno hums an affirmation before bending down those last five inches.

Kissing Sid is both exactly as Geno expected and completely surprising. He’s always felt sure that Sid’s a good kisser, that he knows what he’s doing, and Sid proves both those predictions correct when he kisses Geno back, hard and sweet and sure. Still, he didn’t expect the noises Sid would make, small and needy, or the way Sid grabs onto his shoulders, fingers digging in and pulling Geno closer still.

Geno, for his part, tries to give as good as he gets, licking into Sid’s mouth at the first opportunity and swallowing every sound Sid makes, dropping one hand to rest on Sid’s hip, pushing his thumb into the divot of Sid’s hipbone. Sid’s hair is soft under his hand, just long enough for Geno to pull it a little, and the noise he gets from that makes him do it again and again, in time with his tongue fucking into Sid’s mouth.

Finally, after Geno has Sid practically melting into him, arms wrapping around his back and one hand trailing up under his t-shirt, he has the thought that there is, in fact, a perfectly good bed right there.

“Sid,” he says, pulling away just enough to talk, and Sid groans a little, not quite opening his eyes. “Sid,” he repeats, pulling them both over to the bed.

“Oh,” Sid says, once he’s opened his eyes and seen Geno’s destination. “I guess we could do that.”

Geno laughs, but then Sid’s pushing at his chest, tipping him down onto the bed so he can crawl up Geno’s body to kiss him again, and Geno isn’t really laughing anymore.

They don’t do much more than make out, still tired from practice, and Geno at least feels hyperaware of the fact that they’re in a hotel, Paulie’s room right on the other side of the wall. Still, even just kissing Sid feels amazing, and Geno can’t stop running his hands all over Sid’s skin, heady with how different it is to have Sid in his bed like this.

Some time later, when Sid has his head pillowed on Geno’s chest, Geno’s hand carding through Sid’s hair, Geno says quietly, “Could have asked, you know.”

Sid hums, a low, toneless thing, and then says just as quietly, “I wasn’t – I didn’t know for sure.”

Geno chuckles a little, scratching his nails into Sid’s scalp and grinning at the ceiling as Sid groans softly. “So just crawl into bed? Seem pretty sure.”

“Shut up,” Sid says, though not very insistently, and then, “Besides, I like HGTV.”

If Geno laughs hard enough that Sid insists on kissing him quiet, well. He doesn’t think Sid minds.

-

“I think,” Geno says, leaning against the counter in Sid’s kitchen and looking at his pinboard, “you need new dishes. White boring.”

“They are _classic_ ,” Sid insists, stirring something that smells amazing and that Geno wants to put into his mouth immediately. “Just because you’ve watched a couple shows –“

“I not just watch, I look at stuff,” Geno says, walking over to shove his phone under Sid’s face. “See? We can have nice dishes that not white. More interesting, fun.”

“I can’t stir if you’re doing that,” Sid bitches, bumping Geno with his hip. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You want our house to be _blue_.”

“Blue nice! Dark, pretty, look good with trim,” Geno says, bumping Sid back. “You not know colors. You have pink house. No way you decide color for new one.”

“One, it’s coral, and two, if it’s our house, I get a say,” Sid replies, giving the sauce one final stir before checking on the rest of the stir-fry. “Here, try this.”

Geno pops the spoon into his mouth and hums happily. “Delicious,” he mumbles, beaming at Sid around the spoon handle before pulling it out. “I eat all, none left.”

“Glutton,” Sid replies, but fondly, and Geno gives him a smacking kiss on the cheek.

“Say such sweet things,” he says, going back to sit at one of the barstools and flipping through the pile of paint chips. “What color we paint bedroom?”

“Not orange,” Sid calls, already working on finishing up dinner, and Geno hums as he sorts paint colors, feeling warm and content.


End file.
